


A Decade Until Dawn

by lionheart (cruel_oath)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Adoption, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-06 07:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruel_oath/pseuds/lionheart
Summary: After deciding it's be too dangerous for a kid like Talcott to travel with him, Gladio asks Prompto and Ignis to take him in. Though Talcott is reluctant at first, in the coming years he comes to think of them as family.





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was originally a request from an anon on tumblr. It got to be too big for a one-shot, so it expanded, and as a result, it's a good eight months overdue. I'm sorry it took me so long, anon, but I've got the first half of the fic written, and I do plan on updating this every Friday.

It was really happening.

Talcott watches as Cor helps Prompto load boxes full of his belongings into the back of the pickup truck. His old room is empty, save for few boxes stacked up near the door. He only has a few more minutes in the old house before it’d be time to leave for his new home with Prompto and Ignis.

Talcott’s thankful that they agreed to take him in. He’s known them for years and they’ve always treated him well, but he’ll miss being with Gladio and Iris.

“Ready, Talcott?”

He looks up at Gladio, hoping it’s not too obvious that he’s upset. “Yeah.”

Gladio offers him a smile, kneeling down to his level. Big, muscular arms wrap around him, pulling him into a tight hug. “Iris and I are still gonna drop by and visit, ‘kay? You may not be living with me anymore, but we’ll still be family.”

Talcott hugs Gladio a little tighter. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart.” Gladio pulls back so he can look Talcott in the eye. “Ignis and Prompto have my number. Call me if you need me and I’ll come running, you understand?”

Talcott nods. Gladio’s smile widens. “That’s what I wanted to hear.” He stands up, tousling his hair. “You be good for Prom and Iggy, alright?”

“I will,” Talcott says, “Promise!”

When the last of Talcott’s things are loaded onto the truck, Prompto walks up to them. “You ready to go, bud?”

 _No,_ he’s not. He wants to stay with Gladio and Iris. He wants to be sure that he doesn’t lose the rest of his family. He wants Prompto and Cor to put his things back where they belong.

Instead, Talcott nods. He follows Prompto out to his truck and climbs into the passenger seat, taking one last look at the house when the engine roars to life.

* * *

  _“Hey, Tal, you got a sec?”_

_Talcott slides off the couch, following Gladio out of the room. He knows by the tone of the Shield’s voice that whatever he wants to talk about is serious. All it does is fill him with a sense of dread._

_“C’mere, bud,” Gladio says, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Have a seat.”_

_Talcott climbs into the chair. “I-I’m sorry about the prank I pulled last week! I didn’t think Lady Iris would throw the chair out the window over a fake bug!”_

_Gladio snorts. “Honestly, it was pretty funny. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”_

_For a few brief seconds, Talcott’s relieved. Then, the dread returns._

_Gladio sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m just gonna cut to the chase here. We can’t stay in Caem much longer—we’re going to lose power soon, and once the power goes, so will the light from the lighthouse.”_

_“Where are we going to go?” Talcott asks._

_“Iris and I will be heading to Hammerhead,” Gladio says. “Dave needs help setting up a new base of operations for the hunters and we’ll be helping them out. You, on the other hand, are going to Lestallum.”_

_Talcott’s heart sank deep into the pit of his stomach. “Why can’t I come with you and Lady Iris?”_

_“Because Hammerhead is crawling with daemons, Talcott. You have zero combat training and I’m not putting you in danger.” Gladio stands, walking around the table and kneeling down at Talcott’s side. “I talked to Ignis a couple days ago. He told me that he and Prompto would be happy to take you in. I know you’ll be safe with them.”_

_It’s not that he doesn’t like Prompto and Ignis—they’ve been good to him, especially after his grandfather’s murder. But Gladio and Iris are the closest thing to a family he has left, and he’s not up for losing anybody else._

_“I can stay out of the way! I won’t leave the garage, I promise!”_

_“Tal, you’re a_ **_kid._ ** _You’re supposed to play outside and resist eating your vegetables. It’s not fair to expect you to stay inside a crowded garage.” Gladio frowns, and for the first time, Talcott sees how_ **_painful_ ** _it is for him to deliver the news. “Believe me, kid, I don’t want to do this, but I can’t lose anybody else.”_

_Neither of them speak for several long seconds. Finally, in a quiet voice, Talcott asks, “You’ll visit, right?”_

_“Of course I will,” Gladio says. “I won’t forget about you, Talcott. I don’t forget about the people I care about.”_

* * *

 Not much has changed about Lestallum.

The most obvious changes are the barricade surrounding the city and the massive flood lights keeping the daemons at bay. Within the barricade, the population within Lestallum has grown considerably, making the city more crowded than it’s ever been. So crowded, Talcott thinks it’s a miracle that Prompto was even able to drive through the streets.

“Here we are,” Prompto says, pushing open the door. “Home, sweet home.”

As expected, the apartment is small. Most of the furniture is pushed up against the walls, save for the coffee table sitting in front of the sofa. The walls are covered in pictures—some from the beginning of King Noctis’ journey, others from before they set out.

Talcott wonders if Ignis knows they’re up there.

“Welcome home. I trust everyone arrived in one piece?”

“Yep! Safe and sound!” Prompto walks into the kitchen, motioning for Talcott to follow him. He gives Ignis a quick kiss on the cheek. “We’re gonna get Talcott’s things in, then I’m gonna take him on a quick tour.”

Ignis nods, not taking his attention off the pot in front of him. “Lunch will be ready soon, you two. I advise you not get too deep into unpacking.”

“Gotcha.” Prompto turns back to Talcott. “C’mon, bud.”

It doesn’t take them too long to get Talcott’s things out of the truck and piled up in the living room, stacked up against the wall so they stay out of Ignis’ way.

Talcott follows Prompto through the living room into the tiny hallway, which extends to the right. There’s a door directly in front of them and two at the end of the hall.

Prompto points to the doors at the end of the hall. “Me and Ignis sleep in the room down there. Our door’s always open, so if you need anything, let us know.” He flashes Talcott a quick smile before motioning towards the door to the left. “That’s the bathroom. And this”—Prompto opens the door directly in front of him—“is your room.”

The room is about half the size of the one he had in Caem. It’s empty, save for a handful of furniture Cor had brought over earlier in the day. Like the rest of the apartment, all the furniture is pushed up against the walls—his bed is lined up against the wall across from him, beneath a window with a view of the EXINERIS Power Plant. His desk is against the wall on the left and his bookshelf is situated next to the closet on the right.

“It’s kinda boring now,” Prompto says, “but there’s plenty of time to do something about that.”

* * *

 After a delicious lunch and a few hours of unpacking, Talcott’s room is starting to look less barren.

His bed is now made, covered in the cactuar-print sheets Iris had found in Lestallum shortly after they fled Insomnia. He has two photos hanging on the wall—one of his mother and father, which he risked his life to save when the Crown City fell, and the other of everyone at Caem before King Noctis and his retinue left for Altissia.

It doesn’t feel like home yet, but it’s getting there. At least, Talcott thinks so.

“Heya, bud,” Prompto calls from the doorway, pulling Talcott from his thoughts. “It’s getting kinda late, isn’t it? It’d probably be a good idea to turn in for the night, huh?”

“Yeah.” Talcott knows it’s only been a few hours since he left Caem, but it feels like it’s been years. He didn’t even notice just how drained he felt until Prompto mentioned going to bed.

“Iris told me she told you bedtime stories back at Caem,” Prompto says, walking into the room. “Thought I’d offer to tell you one, if you want.”

Talcott smiles, nodding. He hops off his bed and pads over to his bookshelf, picking out a thick, leather-bound book of fairy tales. He tries not to focus on the fact that it was a gift from Gladio, who found it while he was out on a hunt.

Prompto takes the book, taking a moment to flick through the pages. “You got one in mind, or you want me to surprise you?”

Talcott takes a moment to think. “Surprise me.”

Once Talcott’s tucked in, Prompto takes a seat on the bed. He opens the book up to his fairy tale of choice. “Alright, this one’s a personal favorite of mine.”

Prompto’s voice is soft and soothing, a sharp contrast to its usual excited tone. Talcott begins to nod off around the halfway point of the story, and just before sleep takes him, he thinks that maybe everything’s going to be okay.


	2. Year Two

Talcott wakes up screaming.

He remembers nothing of his nightmare—nothing except seeing the corpse of his grandfather, his face contorted in agony and anger. Talcott can’t think straight, not when he can still hear his grandfather chanting the same accusations over and over again.

 _You killed me! You let me die! Your fault, your fault,_ **_your fault!_ **

Talcott doesn’t understand why the nightmares are coming back. He hasn’t had them in months—at least, not ones this bad. His heart’s beating so fast, his chest hurts. He’s struggling to breathe. He’s choking on snot and the tears won’t stop and his mind keeps racing and—

He hops off the bed, throws open the door to his room, and runs down the hall. The words that Prompto spoke to him a year ago cut through the noise.

_Our door’s always open, so if you need anything, let us know._

Talcott quietly opens the door and pads into the room, finding Prompto and Ignis dead to the world. He considers leaving them alone, but seeing Jared’s angry face spurs him on.

“Prompto?” Talcott asks, voice just above a whisper. He reaches out to poke at the blond’s arm, trying not to wake Ignis in the process.

“Hmm? Talcott?” Prompto cracks an eye open. “You okay, buddy?”

“I had a bad dream,” Talcott whispers.

Prompto gives Talcott a sympathetic smile, carefully slipping out of Ignis’ hold. He climbs out of bed, stretching a little. “I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?”

Talcott nods, letting Prompto lift him up into his arms. He rests his head on the man’s chest, listening to his heart’s steady beating.

Prompto carries him into the kitchen, where he sets Talcott down on the counter—“Don’t tell Iggy I let you sit here, okay, bud?”—and grabs a small saucepan and a mug from the cabinet. He watches the gunslinger get the milk from the fridge and a packet of instant cocoa from the pantry, unable to fight the smile.

“You remember anything about your dream, Talcott?” Prompto asks as he works.

Talcott looks down to the floor. He sees his grandfather’s face, rotted away and contorted in anger and agony.

“No,” he lies.

Prompto makes a sympathetic sound, pouring the warmed milk into the mug. He rips open the cocoa packet and dumps the contents in, mixing it until the powder has dissolved before handing it off to Talcott. “It’s okay if you don’t remember. If you do, though, you can always talk to me or Iggy about it. We’re here for you, buddy.”

It’s silent for a long time. Talcott drinks his cocoa and Prompto cleans up, humming some pop song he vaguely remembers. Oddly enough, it’s comforting—after nearly two and a half years of utter chaos, it’s nice to hear something so plain and ordinary as doing the dishes.

“All done?” Prompto asks when Talcott finishes his cocoa. He makes quick work of cleaning the mug, leaving it in the dish drainer. He dries his hands and lifts Talcott off the counter, heading back to his room.

“You need anything else, Talcott?” Prompto asks once Talcott has been tucked in. “I can read you another bedtime story, or I can stay until you fall asleep.”

Talcott shakes his head. “No, I’m… I’m okay.” He’s caused enough trouble.

“Okay,” Prompto says. “Goodnight, Talcott. Sleep tight.”

When Prompto shuts the door, Talcott doesn’t go back to sleep.

* * *

“—lcott?”

“Hmm?” Talcott comes back to reality, but exhaustion threatens to pull him back in. His attention snaps to Ignis and Prompto, who look more than a little concerned.

“Prompto asked if you were feeling alright,” Ignis says.

“You’ve seemed out of it all morning,” Prompto adds. “Are you coming down with something?”

Talcott feels the back of Ignis’ hand against his forehead. “Well, he certainly doesn’t have a fever… have you been having trouble sleeping lately?”

Talcott flinches. Before he can make any attempt to deny it, Ignis hums in understanding. “You had a nightmare last week, yes? Have you had any more since?”

Talcott nods, then remembers that Ignis can’t see. “Yeah.”

Prompto walks over to Talcott, kneeling down to his level. “You wanna talk about it, buddy?”

He should probably accept the offer and tell Ignis and Prompto. Maybe they’ll have a solution. Instead, Talcott shakes his head. “I can’t remember any of them,” he lies.

Prompto appears to take it at face value, but Ignis doesn’t seem convinced in the least. He doesn’t push it, to Talcott’s relief, but he has a feeling that he might pull him aside while Prompto’s out on a hunt in the near future.

* * *

After three sleepless nights, Ignis finally coaxes something out of Talcott.

He’s careful not to say much—even after all this time, he still can’t bring himself to tell them that he allowed the Empire to murder his grandfather—but Ignis doesn’t seem too concerned about all the details. As soon as he mentions his grandfather, Ignis seems to have all the information he needs.

“I suppose it would make sense… if I’m not mistaken, the second anniversary of Jared’s death is near, is it not?”

It all makes sense, now. Talcott looks to the calendar on the wall, where Prompto has crossed out the days that have passed in black marker. It’s early August, now, just a little over a week before that dreaded day.

“Prompto mentioned that the last time you told him about your nightmare, you had no trouble sleeping when you slept in our bed,” Ignis says. “Would you like to stay with us tonight? Perhaps tomorrow we can work on a more long-term solution.”

For now, though, it’s late—at least, that’s what the clock on the wall tells him. Talcott doesn’t complain when Ignis sends him to his room to get ready for bed, nor does he try to back out when he comes by fifteen minutes later to retrieve him.

The bedroom is already dark when they come in—Prompto had crashed as soon as he returned from his hunt earlier and shows no sign of waking anytime soon. Talcott climbs into the bed and makes himself comfortable, already feeling more at ease.

Ignis slips into bed, pulling the covers over them. Once they’re comfortable, he speaks, his voice soft so he doesn’t wake Prompto. “Now, any requests for tonight’s story?”

After a moment of thought, Talcott asks, “Can you tell the one about the esper?”

Ignis smiles. “Of course.”

That night, Talcott doesn’t dream.

* * *

After a week, Talcott tries to sleep in his room.

He’s fine until just after midnight—his dreams of a world where the war never happened are interrupted by the mangled form of his grandfather, screaming that it’s his fault he’s dead.

Every night, they try something new. They have Talcott drink a warm glass of milk one night. They stay with him until long after he’s fallen asleep the next. They try letting him sleep in their bed for the first half of the night, then moving him back to his room. None of it works.

Eventually, the conversation Talcott has been dreading for nearly two weeks comes.

“I know that this might be a difficult conversation to have,” Ignis says, “but I’m afraid we’re running out of options. So, tell me the truth—do you remember your nightmares?”

Talcott knows Ignis knows the answer, so he doesn’t bother lying. “Yeah.”

In the end, he doesn’t have to say much—as soon as he mentions his grandfather, Ignis seems to understand. He snaps his fingers, just like he does when he comes up with a new recipe, and offers Talcott a kind smile. “I believe I have an idea.”

* * *

Caem is in ruins, yet Jared’s memorial is completely intact. He remembers Prince Noctis charming the memorial just before leaving, ensuring that it’d be protected from daemon and soldier alike.

“Not even Titan’s gonna get through that,” Noctis told him. “His memory will stand the test of time.”

(He still wonders if it would really protect against Titan. He’s not so sure he wants to test that theory.)

Prompto and Ignis have given him some space—they’re far enough away for them to not hear what he says, but close enough to react should a daemon slip by them. Thankfully, the lanterns they had set up seem to be helping.

“I should’ve listened to you,” Talcott murmurs. “I should’ve stayed with Lady Iris like you told me to. If I had, you’d still be here.”

Iris would’ve recognized the uniforms. She would’ve taken them out, then go and warn the others. Instead, he chased after a stray cat and led the Imperials right to them.

“I’m sorry,” he sobs. He chokes out _I love yous_ and _I miss yous_ and more tearful apologies until he’s too tired to continue crying.

Shortly after the tears stop, Prompto and Ignis approach him. “Ready to go, buddy?”

Talcott nods. He takes Ignis’ hand and follows them back to Prompto’s truck. Ignis mentions something about finding a haven to rest at, but the rest of the conversation fades away as he falls asleep in the back.

This time, his grandfather’s ghost doesn’t haunt him.


	3. Year Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day late and tbh I don't really have an excuse lol I promise next update will be on time!

When Talcott blows out the candles, there’s applause and cheer and laughter. For once, nobody’s thinking about daemons or patrols or search parties—right now, the only thing on everyone’s mind is celebrating his tenth birthday.

Talcott hadn’t really been expecting a party. He would’ve been just as happy with Ignis’ cake and another cactuar statue to add to his growing collection, but having everyone he loves all in one place feels nice. Half of them he hadn’t seen in nearly a year, given their respective duties.

“Alright,” Prompto says as he removes the candles, “the birthday boy gets the first slice. Which one do you want, buddy?”

“That one!” Talcott points to the piece that has most of the icing cactuar intact. Prompto transfers the slice over to Talcott’s plate. “It looks so good, Ignis!”

Ignis smiles. “I certainly hope it tastes as good as it looks. I admit, baking was never something I could master even with my eyesight.”

Talcott can’t imagine Ignis  _ ever  _ making something that didn’t taste good. In all the years he’s known the adviser, he’s never disliked anything he prepared. The cake itself looks immaculate—Iris lended a helping hand to ensure the cake wouldn’t burn, then took care of decorating it since Ignis wouldn’t be able to.

It’s the best cake Talcott has had in  _ years,  _ and he’s sure to let Ignis know. Ignis responds with a word of thanks and a pat on the head.

When almost everyone has finished their cake, Prompto rises from his seat. “Okay, time for presents!” He leaves the room to retrieve the presents, Iris following behind to help. They return a few minutes later, arms full of presents that they carefully set down on the table.

The pile of presents was small, with each gift packaged in something that could either be reused or wouldn’t be missed if it was discarded, such as a newspaper. The lack of color doesn’t put a damper on Talcott’s mood, though—he knows that the gifts inside are things he’ll treasure.

The first few gifts are big leather-bound books. They’re old, but in near perfect condition. Two of them are history books—one on Lucian history from Monica, and the other on the civilization of Solheim from Dustin. The third is a book of fairy tales from all corners of Eos from Cor. Talcott’s buzzing with excitement to see the new reading material, but thinks it might be a little rude to rush off before opening his other presents.

The next gift is a knife from Gladio. There’s nothing particularly ornate about it like Ignis’ daggers—it’s built to be durable, not pretty. As he slips it back into its holster, Gladio says, “You won’t be needing it anytime soon, but I figure you could find some use for it before you’re old enough to join the hunters.” It’s a good reason—at the very least, it’s enough to keep Ignis from questioning why Gladio thought it’d be a good idea to give a ten-year-old a knife for his birthday (and taking it away to hold until he’s old enough to use it).

Talcott receives a homemade cactuar plush from Iris and a Hammerhead cap from Cid. He also receives a toolbox from Cindy, so he can “help Prompto ‘round that shop of his.”

There’s only one gift left—it’s a small package wrapped up in the comics section of the  _ Lestallum Times.  _ He knows it’s from Prompto and Ignis just by Prompto’s messy handwriting on the paper. He reaches for the package and unwraps it carefully, expecting another cactuar statue to add to his collection.

Instead, he finds a camera.

It’s a Lokton camera, an older model. Talcott can see where a few old parts have been replaced with new ones, likely with parts that must’ve been difficult to find. In the back of his mind, Talcott thinks  _ this  _ must’ve been that “special project” Prompto and Ignis had spent the past eight months working on.

Talcott looks up at Prompto and Ignis with wide eyes. He opens his mouth to speak, but he just can’t form the words.

“Thought it was about time we got you a camera of your own,” Prompto says. “There’s a memory card already in there, and I’ve got a spare if you run out of space.”

“I’m afraid it took us longer than we would’ve liked to get it completed,” Ignis adds. “We had planned to have it ready for the Solstice last year, but I suppose what’s important is that it’s complete now.”

Talcott grins, hopping out of his seat and rushing over to Ignis and Prompto. He wraps his arms around Prompto’s middle and hugs him tightly, clinging for a few moments before doing the same for Ignis.

* * *

 

By the time the party ends, Talcott has filled half the memory card.

Gladio decides to stay a little longer to catch up with Ignis and Prompto, leaving Iris and Talcott to their own devices. Eventually, Talcott grows bored of snapping photos of the apartment, deciding that he wants to capture the hustle and bustle of Lestallum’s streets.

“Can Iris and I go out?” Talcott asks, giving Prompto his very best puppy dog eyes. “We’ll stay away from the barricades and the sidestreets!”

“I don’t see why not,” Prompto says. He turns to Ignis, seeing if he has any objections.

“Do be sure you two don’t get separated in the crowd,” Ignis adds. “I’m confidant Iris is capable of taking care of any potential problems that may arise.”

Talcott grins. Prompto tousles his hair and hands him the spare memory card. “Just in case you need it.”

Talcott pockets the memory card and takes Iris’ hand, pulling lightly. “C’mon! Maybe Miss Cerva’s out with her dogs!”

Iris laughs, letting Talcott pull her out the door. They promise to return within the next hour or so, leaving the adults to talk about whatever adults are supposed to talk about.

To Talcott’s delight, Miss Cerva  _ is  _ out with her dogs. She’s out in front of her little home, sitting in her chair between her two gigantic Gralean Mastiffs, Album and Rubrum. In her arms she holds her baby, Agnus. 

“Oh, zaychik! Hello!” Miss Cerva smiles brightly at them as they approach. “Is this a friend of yours?”

“Hi, Miss Cerva! This is Iris,” Talcott says. He turns to Iris. “This is Miss Cerva! Aranea and Ignis helped deliver her baby, remember?”

Talcott doesn’t think he’ll forget that day. It was a few months ago, shortly after a successful search and rescue mission in Gralea. Talcott had been tasked with handing out rations for the refugees when Miss Cerva had gone into labor. He remembers Prompto had attempted to deliver the baby, but had passed out the moment he went to check to see if the baby was crowning.

_ “Shiva’s tits, the kid can handle blood and gore on the battlefield, but can’t stomach childbirth?”  _ Aranea had said when she pushed Prompto’s unconscious form out of the way to do the job herself.  _ “Do they not show childbirth videos in high school anymore?” _

_ “They do,”  _ Ignis replied with an air of humor,  _ “and if I recall correctly, Prompto had passed out then, as well.” _

“Can I take your picture, Miss Cerva?” Talcott asks, showing her the camera. “Prompto and Ignis got me my own camera!”

Miss Cerva lets out a soft laugh. “Of course, zaychik.”

Talcott ends up taking three pictures—one of Miss Cerva and Agnus, one of Album and Rubrum, and one of him and Miss Cerva that Iris took. When he shows the woman the photos, she smiles softly.

“Ah, zaychik,” Miss Cerva says, “they’re lovely. You’ve must’ve learned tricks from papochka.”

Talcott nods. “Yeah! Prompto taught me everything I know!”

Talcott and Iris bid Miss Cerva farewell, continuing their trek through the city until Talcott has filled the rest of the memory card. He’s tempted to switch over to the next one, but Iris reminds him of their promise. He pockets the memory card and follows Iris back to the apartment, chattering excitedly about all the photos he took.

“—you really sure it was him?”

“I know what I saw, Gladio.”

Talcott stops in his tracks. He’s not sure what Prompto and Gladio were talking about, but he could tell it was a serious topic. He opens his mouth to ask, but Ignis immediately changes the subject, altering the others to their presence.

“Welcome back,” Ignis greets. “I trust you’ve taken quite a few photos, yes?”

“Yeah! But—”

“I better head out,” Gladio says, standing up. “C’mon, Iris. We gotta leave for Hammerhead early in the morning.” He stops to give Talcott a hug. “Happy birthday, Tal. We’ll see you soon, okay?”

Talcott can only nod. He gives Iris a confused look, which he receives in return. She gives him a hug and whispers, “I’ll see if I can get Gladdy to tell me what all that was about.”

Talcott nods, but he knows that there’s a good chance she might not get anything out of Gladio. As soon as they leave, Talcott turns to Prompto and Ignis. “What were you—”

Apparently, Prompto wasn’t having it either. “You take any photos, Tal? I’d love to see ‘em!”

“A splendid idea, love,” Ignis says. “Come, Talcott. I’d very much like to know how Lestallum has changed over the years.”

Talcott wants to fight back, demand that they tell him what’s going on. But Prompto and Ignis seem genuinely interested in the photos, so he shelves that conversation for now in favor of sitting between them on their tiny couch and pulling out his camera.

* * *

 

For whatever reason, Talcott can’t seem to fall asleep.

It’s not nightmares keeping him up this time. He can’t place it, but there’s  _ something  _ bothering him. Finally, he decides to roll out of bed and grab his camera, deciding that looking through his photos might help him relax.

Except his camera isn’t in the place he usually puts it.

For a moment, Talcott wonder if he lost it. His heart sinks to his stomach like a rock— _ how could he have possibly lost it after only a few days? _ —until he remembers that he had it out earlier. He was showing Prompto pictures he took around the shop while Ignis was making dinner. He must’ve left it on the coffee table in the living room.

Talcott opens his door and leaves his room to retrieve his camera. Just as he sets foot into the living room, though, he sees Prompto in the room, sitting on the couch.

Talcott quickly hides behind the wall, not wanting to alert Prompto to his presence. After a few moments, he dares to peek around the corner.

Prompto hasn’t moved. He’s staring at the floor, his eyes glazed over. It’s almost as though he’s in some sort of trance. Talcott approaches quietly, reaching for his camera.

Prompto doesn’t move. It’s like he hasn’t even noticed him.

“Prompto?”

It’s as though someone flipped a switch. Prompto nearly jumps out of his skin, taking in a shaky breath. He looks over to Talcott, his eyes wide. “Tal? Buddy, what’re you doing out of bed?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Talcott says. “I wanted to look at my pictures.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Why wouldn’t I be?” Prompto gives Talcott a strained smile. “There a reason you can’t sleep? Are you having nightmares again?”

“No! No, I just… I don’t know.”

Prompto’s smile becomes a little less strained. “C’mon, let’s get you back to bed. I’ll even read you another bedtime story, if you want.”

What Talcott wants is an answer. He wants to know what Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio were talking about a few days ago. He wants to know why Prompto looked so out of it. He wants them to take him seriously.

Instead, he takes Prompto’s hand and allows him to lead him back to his room, thinking about what story he wants to hear tonight.


	4. Year Four

Talcott watches as Ignis stirs the pot of chili, his mouth already watering. It had taken several days of work to gather the ingredients necessary for a pot big enough to feed all the hunters helping convert the garage in Hammerhead into a new headquarters for the hunters, but he could tell from the smell that it was worth it. Even better, it was a pot of  _ Ignis’  _ chili—not the stuff from a can that looked a little like raw sewage.

Ignis takes a taste of the chili, frowning a little. “Talcott, could you pass me the cumin?”

“Yessir!” Talcott passes the shaker labeled  _ cumin.  _ He watches Ignis sprinkle some in.

This time, when Ignis tastes it, he lets out a hum of satisfaction. “Perfect.” He reaches for the tupperware he had set aside earlier and dishes out some of the chili, setting them down on the counter so Talcott can put on the lids. "Now, would you take these to Prompto and Cindy? I wager they won't be willing to leave their precious lighting system even if they're hungry enough to eat a catoblepas."

"Yessir!" Talcott accepts the containers and leaves the diner, being mindful of the crowd of hunters he has to weave through.

For the past year and a half, Prompto and Ignis have taken to bouncing between Lestallum and Hammerhead to help with relief efforts and the reconstruction, respectively. Talcott could've stayed in Lestallum, but he didn't like being cooped up for too long. Here, he could help out with just about everything, whether it be giving hunters information on the land or doing odd jobs here and there. On the plus side, it meant he got to spend more time with Ignis and Prompto.

Tonight, Cindy and Prompto are working in the garage, attempting to create a new lighting system to replace the current one they had. The lights outside were nothing more than streetlamps—just enough to keep the daemons at the gate and nothing more. While they  _ were _ making progress, they still had yet to come up with something that was powerful enough to keep the daemons at a safe distance, but wouldn't put too much pressure on the already overworked generator.

"Hey there, Talcott," Cindy greets, looking up from her work. She elbows Prompto in the ribs, drawing his attention away from the wiring.

"Oh, looks like it's dinner time! What'd you bring us, buddy?" Prompto gets up, walking over to Talcott. "Oh, is that chili? Shit— _ you didn't hear that— _ Iggy hasn't made chili in forever!"

"He finally got his hands on all the right ingredients," Talcott says, beaming. "Well, almost... we had to substitute some of the spices, but he says they don't taste that much different."

"I doubt Prompto and I would be able to tell the difference," Cindy says. "Don't go tellin' him I said that, though."

"Knowin' Iggy, he'd probably take that as a compliment," Prompto points out. "He takes pride in little things like that, y'know?"

"Still, I don't want on his bad side." Cindy sets aside her tools and pulls off her gloves. "You let Ignis know we appreciate it, alright, Talcott? If Takka were in charge, he'd be draggin' us outta here."

Talcott laughs. "Just make sure you two don't stay up all night this time! Ignis said he won't let it slide this time."

"Can't say I expect any less," Cindy chuckles. "You take care, hun."

Talcott leaves the garage, weaving his way past the crowd of hunters. He returns to the diner, immediately making his presence known. "Mission accomplished, sir!"

He finds Ignis nearby, setting two dishes of chili out onto a table. "I appreciate it, Talcott." He takes his seat, smiling in his general direction. "I trust things are going well with the generator?"

"It seems like everything's going well," Talcott says, "but I don't think they've actually tested it out yet. I don't think they're gonna finish tonight, though."

Ignis hums in understanding. "Alas, such a feat would be impossible even with their combined efforts. I'm sure they'll come up with a solution, soon—they're every bit as stubborn as they are smart."

Talcott hops up onto the booth, sitting down across from Ignis. He picks up his spoon and digs in, letting out a little wince when he burns his tongue.

"Do be careful, Talcott," Ignis says, attempting to hide the amusement in his voice. "It is quite hot."

"But it's so  _ good!" _ Talcott whines, shoving another spoonful of chili into his mouth.

This time, Ignis makes no attempts to hide his amusement.

* * *

 

When it's time to turn in, Prompto still hasn't returned.

It's not the first time it's happened—given his work, it makes sense that Prompto leaves their caravan in the early hours and returns well after Talcott has gone to bed. Ignis seems to have no issues with it, save for how  _ exhausted  _ Prompto is in what little free time he has.

(He's heard the conversations when they think he's not awake to hear them. He knows Ignis worries about how little Prompto has slept and how long he goes without eating. He just wishes he could actually do something to help.)

"Now, what story would you like to he—" Ignis is cut off by the sound of his cell phone ringing. He retrieves his phone, giving Talcott an apologetic smile. "Scientia speaking. Oh, darling, that's wonderful. I trust that means you'll be back soon? Ah, perfect! I shall see you soon, then. I love you, too, dear."

As soon as Ignis hangs up, Talcott asks, "Are they done with the generator?"

"No," Ignis says, "but it would seem that they've made enough progress that they've decided to turn in early. They've even planned to start late tomorrow so they can get a full night's rest."

It's a pretty big deal—if Prompto and Cindy have made that much progress, then that probably means that they're  _ nearly  _ finished with the generator. All they need to do is find a way to implement it.

"Why don't we get back to your bedtime story, hmm?" Ignis sits down at Talcott's side, offering him a small smile. "What would you like to hear tonight?"

"I wanna hear about the witch!"

Ignis chuckles. "Ah, it has been some time since—"

Once again, Ignis is interrupted. This time, the sound comes from outside the caravan. Talcott expects it to end there, but what follows are terrified screams. Immediately, Ignis summons a dagger.

"Stay here, Talcott," Ignis says. "Unless whatever is out there makes its way inside, you are not to set foot out of this caravan."

"But—"

"Talcott," Ignis says, his voice just the slightest bit harsh, "do not argue. Stay in the caravan."

Talcott can only bring himself to nod. As Ignis leaves the caravan, he catches a glimpse of the daemons outside.

For several long minutes, Talcott remains in the caravan. He dares not move, not even when something hits the caravan and makes it shake. For the first time in years, he wants his mother.

Then, he hears the roar of an Iron Giant.

Talcott jumps off his bed, grabbing the hunting knife Gladio gave him for his birthday the year before. He peeks out of the curtain in time to watch as Ignis is thrown into another caravan, putting a massive dent into it. Without thinking, Talcott rushes out, his knife unsheathed.

By now, Ignis has recovered. He and Prompto have teamed up to take on the Iron Giant. Prompto is at a safe distance away, calling out to Ignis to warn him of certain attacks while he targets the daemon's weak points from far away. Meanwhile, Ignis alternates between strong close-range attacks and well-timed ranged attacks, gracefully dodging daemons that try to get a jump on him.

That's when Talcott notices a smaller daemon sneaking up behind Prompto. It’s out of Prompto’s sights, sticking to the shadows. Talcott's feet move themselves, carrying him towards the daemon. He remembers the (very brief) training session Gladio had given him a few months back, targeting the daemon's weak point and stabbing it with his knife. It disintegrates, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and a very confused Prompto.

"Talcott, you can't be out here," Prompto says quickly.

Ignis notices that the gunfire has ceased. He turns for just a moment, calling out to Prompto over his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"Talcott just saved our skins," Prompto shouts. "Ignis, I need you to get him back to the caravan!" 

Ignis nods, finishing off the Iron Giant. He begins to run in Talcott's direction, but he doesn't get too far—a yojimbo cuts him off, occupying all his attention. "Talcott, run!  _ Now!" _

Talcott begins to run back towards the caravan, gripping his knife so hard it turns his knuckles white. He dodges daemon limbs and bullets and blades, but just mere feet away from the door, he trips. That's all the time a daemon needs to strike—

The blow never comes.

Talcott raises his head, finding the daemon writing in pain before it disintegrates. He finds Prompto above him, offering his hand. "C'mon, buddy, on your feet."

Talcott allows Prompto to help him onto his feet. He's pushed towards the caravan before he's even able to say a word of thanks. "Okay, we just need to—"

Talcott blinks. One moment, Prompto's standing above him, trying to guide him towards the door, and the next, he's falling to the ground, a deep crimson spot staining his shirt.

"Prompto!" Talcott runs over to the gunslinger, kneeling down beside him. "No, no, no! Get up, please!"

"Talcott!"

"Please, please, get up! Get up, you have to get up!"

_ You can't leave me, too! _

"Talcott, please, you need to go to the caravan." Talcott feels someone lift him away from Prompto's lifeless form. From the corner of his eye, he sees short blonde curls and grease stains along freckled cheeks.

"We have to go back for Prompto, Cindy!" Talcott yells as the door of the caravan is closed. "We can't leave him!"

"We won't, sugar," Cindy says. "Don't you worry. Takka and Ignis are taking him somewhere safe so they can patch him up. All we can do right now is wait."

* * *

 

Hours after the chaos dies down, Talcott wakes up. He's laying on the couch, his head resting on Cindy's lap. He can hear Ignis speaking quietly to someone. Moments later, he hears another familiar voice—Gladio.

Talcott opens his eyes, finding Prompto asleep in the caravan bed. He can see a few crisp, white bandages peeking out from behind the blanket. He sees a few red splotches, too.

_ That's because of me. _

Nobody says anything when Talcott slides off the couch and pads over to the bed. Gladio helps him onto the bed, quietly informing him to be careful of Prompto's injuries. He lays down next to Prompto, feeling a soft blanket settle over him.

When he falls asleep, the conversation picks up where it left off.

* * *

 

Prompto's awake when Talcott wakes up in the morning, propped up against the pillows and playing on his phone. When Prompto notices Talcott is awake, he offers the boy a smile, setting his phone aside. "Hey, Tal," he murmurs, "how're you feeling?"

Talcott's bottom lips wobbles. "You're the one who's hurt!"

Talcott throws himself into Prompto's arms, sobbing into his shoulder. He feels a pair of arms wrap around him, offering comfort that he's not so sure he deserves.

"Shh... it's alright, buddy," Prompto murmurs. He tucks Talcott’s head under his chin, rubbing soothing circles onto his back. “Everything’s okay. I’m okay, everyone’s safe.”

“It’s my fault,” Talcott sobs. “I should’ve listened to Ignis!”

“Perhaps,” Prompto admits, “but if you hadn’t come out, that daemon you took out might’ve distracted Ignis long enough for that Iron Giant to slice him in half. We would’ve been much worse off.”

Talcott sniffled. “Really?”

“Really,” Prompto says, giving Talcott a tired smile. “You did good, buddy.”


	5. Year Five

"There we go! That should do it!"

Talcott beams, eyeing the newest shelf Prompto has secured to the wall of his bedroom. Immediately, he begins planning out a whole new arrangement for his collection, debating on whether he wants to organize everything by class or the date he obtained it. Upon making his decision, he begins to pull objects off the shelves, bidding a fond farewell to his previous organizational system.

"Want a little help, Tal?" Prompto asks, his voice fond.

"Yeah!" A year back, Talcott likely would've refused the help, but now that his collection was growing rather large, reorganizing took  _ hours  _ of time.

For the past year and a half, Ignis had been on a number of trips to the various royal tombs located all across Eos. Talcott was even able to help—while he wasn't permitted to tag along, he  _ was  _ able to offer his knowledge of the world. According to Ignis, Talcott knew enough about the tombs, he could've given lectures at the most prestigious colleges on the planet.

It felt odd being more knowledgeable than Ignis in certain areas. For the longest time, he thought Ignis knew  _ everything— _ he always seemed to have the right answers for everything. Grown-ups were supposed to know everything, right?

"That's not true in the slightest," Ignis had said a long time ago. "Talcott, as a human being, you will never stop learning. We will never truly know  _ everything,  _ as there are still things we have yet to even discover."

Ignis' trips around Eos were a learning experience for Talcott, even if he didn't actually get to go along. Ignis would often return with some sort of souvenir, whether it be an interesting rock, or a crystal, or some sort of ancient weapon. It was his way of letting Talcott see the world, at least until he was old enough to accompany him.

Each item has some sort of story—some of them Ignis knows, having heard of them as a child or hearing of its origins from a local who chose not to leave their homeland. They offer a glimpse into the past, the culture. They tell stories of ancient heroes and the accomplishments of past Lucian rulers.

Others, however, were mysteries. Nobody Ignis knew could tell him about their origins, nor was Ignis able to enlighten Talcott, even with his wide breadth of knowledge. Those items got their very own shelf—a collection of their own, each one a question Talcott is determined to find the answer to.

When Talcott is satisfied with the new arrangement, he rushes off to get his camera. From the other side of the room, Prompto watches, giving him a smile that vaguely reminds him of his grandfather.

_ "You're every bit as curious as your mother." _

"Alright, buddy," Prompto says, clearing his tools off Talcott's bed. "Why don't we get ready for lunch, huh? All that work made me hungry."

"Yeah! Talcott sets his camera down and proceeds to help Prompto clean up. "Thanks, papa!"

Prompto freezes. It takes Talcott a moment to remember what he said. He opens his mouth to apologize, but Prompto's expression catches his attention—he doesn't looks upset or confused.

He looks like he's  _ pleased. _

"Talcott," Prompto murmurs, "did you mean that?"

Did he?

Talcott looks back on the past few years—he thinks of all the times Ignis and Prompto have comforted him after nightmares, or patched up a scraped knee, or told him a story. He thinks of all the times they've shared together, good and bad. He thinks of nights spent together doing something  _ fun,  _ like playing cards or splashing at each other while they're doing dishes, or playing hide and seek in the garage during their nights off.

"Yeah," Talcott says.

Prompto lets out a soft laugh, pulling Talcott into a tight hug. "Gotta admit, buddy, when I told Ignis I wanted a kid, I don't think we really expected that kid to be you... but I can't think of a better kid to call my son."

* * *

 

Three days later, Ignis returns from his trip to Gralea. Though he looks thoroughly exhausted, his face lights up when he hears the familiar sounds of home.

"Welcome home, babe," Prompto greets, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Glad to see you've made it back in on piece."

Ignis laughs. "Well, it helps that I didn't need to fight an angry behemoth this time."

Talcott pads back, smiling excitedly. "What'd you find?"

"Prophecy-wise, I'm afraid what I found in this tomb is nearly identical to the last." Ignis slips his hand into his pouch. "However, I did find something quite interesting for your collection."

Ignis pulls something out of his pouch and hands it over to Talcott. It's a little gold pocketwatch, tarnished and corroded from the years. He can see a very clear engraving of the coat of arms of an influential family within the Niflheim empire.

"Aranea informs me that there's a good chance it'll work again," Ignis says. "I'm certain the next time we go to Hammerhead, Cid or Cindy might know someone who can find the parts necessary. It can be a little project of yours, if you'd like."

Talcott stares at the watch. He's had a number of artifacts from the Empire brought to him, but never one that could still be used, let alone one that he could work on himself. He grins widely, throwing himself at Ignis.

"Thanks," Talcott murmurs, "dad."

Out of curiosity, Talcott looks up to see Ignis' expression. It's the most comical expression he's ever seen—it's caught somewhere between awe and surprise, with just a pinch of disbelief.

Talcott hears the sound of Prompto's camera shutter, followed closely by a quiet laugh. "Gods, Iggy, your face is  _ priceless!" _

Ignis looks back down at Talcott. The look of surprise turns into one of content. He chuckles softly, gently tousling Talcott's hair. "Of course... my son."

Talcott can't help but cling to Ignis a little tighter.

* * *

 

A few days later, Iris and Gladio come by to visit. While Ignis goes down to the shop to get Prompto, Talcott takes the time to show them his growing collection of treasures.

"Six, I haven't seen this many shelves since Iris and I explored that library in Tenebrae," Gladio says. "You could open up a museum if you really wanted to, kid."

Talcott beams proudly. "Most of this is all stuff Ignis found while he was exploring the tombs. Dino says the crystals he found are super rare! And 'Nea told me that all this stuff could get me through college... if the dawn comes back by then."

"She's not wrong," Iris says. "Some of this stuff looks like it's from Solheim."

Gladio's attention turns towards a Lucian medal on one of the other shelves. When Talcott notices it, he carefully lifts the medal off the shelf and hands it over to Gladio so he can take a closer look. "Dad said it's rumored that this medal belonged to Gilgamesh. I haven't been able to prove it, but as soon as dawn comes, I'm gonna start my research!"

Gladio blinks. "I wasn't even aware you had this back in Lucis. Did Jared give it to you when you relocated to Lestallum?"

"No," Talcott says, "Ignis found it."

It takes Talcott a moment to realize that there was no way Gladio could've known that. However, he seems to put two and two together. "Well, I'll be damned. I was wondering when that would happen." He kneels down to Talcott's level, smiling. "I'm glad you've got a good home, kid. Astrals know you deserve it."

Before Talcott can say anything in response, he hears the front door open. He hears Prompto's voice and darts out of the room to greet them, followed closely by Iris and Gladio.

"Hey, good to see you two," Prompto greets, kneeling down to hug Talcott. "It's been a while."

"You know how it is," Gladio says, "Time flies while you're out slaying daemons."

Prompto hums in agreement. He pulls away and walks over to Iris, whispering something in her ear. For a moment, a serious expression crosses her face before she goes back to the carefree smile. "Talcott, you wanna show me more of your collection."

What he  _ wants _ is to find out what Gladio, Ignis, and Prompto talk about when they get together like this, but he knows from experience that nothing he says will get him the answer. This time, he decides to play along—he knows they'll be on guard after the stunt he pulled last time.

Talcott and Iris return to his room, though, they don't talk about the treasure.

"Hey, Talcott?" 

"Yeah?"

Iris lets out a soft sigh. "I know it must've felt like we were abandoning you all those years ago. Honestly, Gladio and I were concerned you were going to run away, or at the very least, not want anything to do with us."

"I wouldn't have run away," Talcott says. He liked Ignis and Prompto back then, just like he likes them now. He had no reason to blame them.

"I know," Iris says, "but... you had already lost your parents, then you lost your grandfather. While we aren't blood-related, we... we consider you family. You're like a little brother to me, Talcott. I was so worried something would happen... you have no idea how happy I am to see you're happy with Ignis and Prompto."

Talcott falls silent. So Iris and Gladio are happy... that was a comforting thought. But...

"Iris," Talcott asks, "Do... do you think my mother and father would be happy? Or would they be upset that I replaced them?"

Iris frowns. "Talcott... they'd never be upset. Your parents would’ve wanted you to grow up in a safe, loving home. They would’ve wanted you to be  _ happy,  _ above all else. Ignis and Prompto make you happy, don’t they?”

Talcott smiles. “Yeah… they do.”


	6. Year Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shhh i know i know im a day late real life has kinda,,,, gotten in the way,,,,, like a lot. updates will likely be sporadic over the next month or so (i will likely have to update this fic every other week instead of every week) but i hope to have this fic done before october begins.

_ Though little is known about the Rogue Queen of Lucis, there are rumors that she herself would go to the front lines and fight back the scourge herself alongside the Oracle. There is little evidence to support such a claim, as so few people outside of her personal retinue have seen her face. However, there have been reports of sightings of a warrior wielding a large shuriken, the Rogue Queen's weapon of choice. _

Talcott's pulled from his reading by a noise outside his room. He frowns, quietly shutting his book. Ignis had turned in for the night hours ago, and even if he had woken up to use the restroom, he wouldn't have heard footsteps—Ignis is silent when he moves, like a cat stalking its prey. That means it had to have been something else.

Talcott climbs out of his bed, taking care not to make any noise. On his way over to the door, he grabs his knife, ready to unsheathe it. Slowly, he opens the door, just wide enough for him to peek out without drawing any suspicion—

In retrospect, he wasn't sure who or what he was expecting to find other than Prompto. This isn't the first time he came home from a hunt in the wee hours of the morning, nor would it be the last.

Talcott is about to shut the door and go back to reading the book Gladio got him for his thirteenth birthday when he sees a dark spot towards the bottom of Prompto's shirt. The man's face is scrunched up in pain. He quickly puts two and two together and creeps out of his room to retrieve the first aid kit from the bathroom. 

"Godsdamned yojimbos," Talcott hears Prompto grumble. "I gotta stop takin' solos if they involve fuckin' yoj—"

Prompto steps back and bumps into Talcott, letting out a comical gasp. He whirls around, eyes as wide as dinner plates. "Holy sh—my gods, Talcott, warn a guy next time!"

"You're hurt," Talcott says.

Prompto lets out a tired laugh. "Those darn yojimbos, amirite?"

Talcott pouts, setting the kit down on the coffee table. "Let me see it."

"Aw, buddy, you don't have to—"

_ "Papa." _

Prompto freezes. "Right, okay." He pulls off his blood-stained shirt, showing Talcott the wound. "S'not as bad as it was earlier... had a high potion on me, so it stopped the bleeding."

"Did you drive all the way back by yourself, papa?" Talcott asks, walking over to the kitchen to wash his hands.

"You gonna tell Ignis if I did?"

"Yes."

"Then no, I didn't."

Talcott throws a glare over his shoulder as he dries his hands off, but all he gets in response is a laugh, followed closely by a groan of pain.

"So, why're you up, anyway?" Prompto asks, watching as Talcott pulls the disinfectant out of the kit. "You having nightmares again, bud? I know it's getting to be that time of year..."

Talcott shakes his head. "I just couldn't sleep. I thought I'd read until I fell asleep, but that didn't really work." 

He pauses, remembering everything his grandfather and Ignis taught him about first aid. He begins the process of cleaning the wound, murmuring quiet apologies when Prompto lets out a wince. 

"Well, I guess I'm lucky you were up," Prompto says, trying to laugh through the pain. "Trying to get this wound taken care of on my own would've sucked."

"I hope you don't need stitches," Talcott says, frowning a little. "Ignis hasn't taught me how to do those yet."

"I doubt it. Like I said, the wound was worse before the hi-potion. Apply some ointment and slap some bandages on it and it should be just fine." Prompto gives Talcott a smile, this time less strained. "I'll get a potion tomorrow morning and see it that heals it the rest of the way."

Talcott applies some ointment and, with Prompto's help, carefully bandages the wound. He assists Prompto in getting up off the couch and helps him over to the door to his and Ignis' room, hoping he doesn't collapse before he gets to bed.

"Try and get some sleep, okay, Talcott?" Prompto gives the boy a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Tomorrow's a big day."

Talcott nods. "Okay. G'night, papa."

Prompto lets out a soft laugh, his tired face lighting up with joy. It's almost as though he's still not used to being referred to as anyone's father. "Sleep tight, son."

* * *

 

Talcott finds it's even more difficult to wake up then it was to go to sleep.

The first two times Talcott asked for five more minutes of sleep, Ignis conceded, attributing it to staying up to help Prompto patch himself up. The third time, however, Ignis stands his ground. "As much as I would like to let you sleep a little longer, we really must get ready. It's a long and risky drive to Caem, my dear boy."

Talcott finally rises at the promise of chocolate chip pancakes, rushing off to the bathroom to get ready for the day. True to Ignis' word, by the time he comes out, breakfast is ready. He pads over to the table and takes his seat, not even waiting for his parents to sit down before he starts to dig in.

"Ooh, are those chocolate chip pancakes I smell?" Prompto asks as he enters the apartment. He's carrying a shopping bag with him—likely curatives, judging from the logo on the bag.

"They are indeed," Ignis says. He crinkles his nose when Prompto kisses his cheek, feeling his goatee scratch against his skin. "I thought you shaved that monstrosity off your face, darling."

"I did a few weeks ago," Prompto says, "but it just keeps coming back."

Talcott can practically hear Ignis' good eye rolling behind the visor. "Eat your breakfast, dove, we've got quite a drive ahead of us."

Prompto laughs softly, sitting down next to Talcott. He takes a bite of his pancakes, humming. "You manage to get plenty of sleep last night buddy?"

"Nope."

"Neither did I," Prompto laughs. "If Ignis didn't keep this apartment stocked with Ebony, I don't know what I'd do."

Talcott's face scrunches up in disgust. "Why would you drink coffee? It's gross!"

"Y'know, Tal, I used to feel the same," Prompto says, "but when you grow up you kinda block out the taste. That, or you just dump a bunch of sugar in it. That's what I do."

"It's still gross."

Prompto shrugs. "You'll understand when you're older, bud."

Talcott pouts, not really understanding what growing up had to do with enjoying hot bean water. He finishes off his breakfast before he leaves the table, padding to his room to gather a few things he'll need for the trip—among them is the book he didn't get to finish the night before, his flashlight, and extra set of batteries, and his knife. He shoves them all into his knapsack and rushes back out to the kitchen, where he finds Prompto and Ignis in the process of clearing the table.

"C'mon, c'mon, we're running late!" Talcott yells, grabbing Prompto's hand.

"Calm down, little man," Prompto laughs. "We're going, we're going."

Ignis chuckles softly, reaching out to take Prompto's free hand. "I hardly blame him for being excited, my dear. It has been quite a while since went out to Caem."

"Kinda of a pretty big deal, huh? Probably gets boring just moving between Hammerhead and Lestallum all the time."

"Come oooooooon!"

Talcott practically drags Prompto out of the apartment. The few minutes it takes to get out to the truck feels more like a few hours in Talcott's mind, and when they finally  _ do  _ get to the truck, he's the first one in. By the time Ignis and Prompto join him, his book is open, his flashlight is switched on, and the dark world around him disappears from existence.

* * *

 

Talcott has finished his book by the time they arrive at Caem.

Little has changed since Talcott's last visit—the house is in worse condition, but there's a row of lanterns lighting a path to his grandfather's grave, which run on power provided by the EXNIRS power plant in Lestallum. Before them, Jared's grave shows no erosion, the charm King Noctis used all those years ago still protecting it to this day.

Talcott wonders how much longer it'll last.

"Go on," Ignis says, "take your time. Prompto and I will guard you both from daemons."

Talcott walks down the path, walking carefully to avoid tripping over the uneven ground. Just beyond the lights, he sees imps hovering about, though he knows they won't come any closer. He pays them no mind, focused on one thing and one thing alone—visiting his grandfather.

"Hello, grandpa," Talcott says, voice soft. "Sorry it's been so long since I last visited... Ignis and Prompto have been really busy lately."

Talcott sits down on the ground in front of his grandfather's grave. The fact that he knows he won't receive any response doesn't bother him in the least—he's just hoping Jared can hear him. He fills his grandfather in on the events of the past year and a half, assuring him that everybody's well.

Talcott talks until his eyelids start to grow heavy. Without the sun, he can't tell how long it's been, but he assumes it must've been a while if Prompto's heading his way.

"Guess we better head back, huh, buddy?" Prompto murmurs, gently lifting Talcott into his arms. He carries him to the car, where he falls asleep the minute he's settled into the back seat.

**Author's Note:**

> Hang out with me on [tumblr](https://memegitek.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
